


Trust

by Melina



Series: Nine of Cups [2]
Category: A Discovery of Witches (TV), All Souls Trilogy - Deborah Harkness
Genre: BDSM, Definitely NOT bundling, Dominance, Dominant/Submissive, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Maledom/Femsub, Power Dynamics, Submission, You did read these tags right?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-24 01:01:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21329650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melina/pseuds/Melina
Summary: Matthew knew that Diana was never one to simply follow the rules.  Her independence, her spirit, and her bravery were some of the many reasons he'd fallen in love with her.But disobedience had consequences, as she was about to learn.
Relationships: Diana Bishop/Matthew Clairmont
Series: Nine of Cups [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1538419
Comments: 12
Kudos: 72





	Trust

**Author's Note:**

> This is a direct sequel to [**Control**.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20924033)
> 
> Please read the tags! Not everyone's cup of tea! Seriously!

Diana was naked and on her knees, and Matthew looked down at her appreciatively. She looked beautiful, her hair loose around her shoulders, her skin just a bit flushed. He loved watching her like this, and he took his time, keeping her waiting as he circled around her silently.

He had kept their play mild and sensual thus far, always ending with pleasure. Sometimes she grew overeager for his attention, his touch, and as endearing as he found her enthusiasm, requiring her to wait and remain still was a lesson in patience.

At the moment, she was waiting more patiently than he was; he wanted to touch her, to taste her skin. He knelt in front of her, lightly tracing his fingers up her arm and across the top of her breasts. Her eyes flickered up to his.

"Eyes down," he said firmly, withdrawing his hand. This wasn't the first time he'd had to remind her. He wasn't overly concerned with formalities, and he didn't believe in most rules other dominants considered ironclad. But he did have a few rules that he expected her to follow, and one of them was keeping her eyes down unless told otherwise. "You should know this by now, Diana," he said coolly. "Don't make me tell you again."

Matthew moved behind her again, making her wait on his pleasure, a mild reproof for breaking the rules. As he circled back around her, her eyes lifted to meet his again, and he understood what she was doing.

She was disobeying him intentionally. He shouldn't be surprised; nearly every submissive tried something similar eventually, just to see how much misbehavior would be tolerated.

Diana was never one to simply follow the rules. Her independence, her spirit, and her bravery were some of the many reasons he'd fallen in love with her. Of course the woman who'd defied the Congregation, who'd chosen to love a vampire despite opposition from every quarter, would test the limits. But disobedience had consequences, as she was about to learn.

"Up," he said firmly, lifting her to her feet by her elbow before quickly releasing her. "Hands behind your back." She complied. He stood very close to her but denied her his touch, the touch he'd very much wanted to indulge in just moments ago. "You're disobedient," he said, his voice even but cold. "Do you understand the nature of your disobedience?"

"Yes," she said, glancing up at him again.

"Eyes down," he snapped, and she quickly complied. He wasn't angry – he would never get anywhere near any submissive, much less Diana, if he were angry – but she needed to see his displeasure. "Explain."

"I looked at you without permission," she said.

"I can only presume, being the clever girl that you are, and having been reminded of this requirement on multiple occasions, that you've chosen to disobey me intentionally. This necessitates...correction."

He took a step away from her, uncharacteristically uncertain about what to do next. Because it hadn't been necessary thus far, he hadn't given any thought as to what form punishing Diana might take. Matthew had been doing this long enough to know that punishments for relatively minor transgressions needed to be swift, memorable, and send an unmistakable message.

Her heart rate picked up slightly. She was still on her feet, waiting for him, as he considered what to do. Embarrassing but not humiliating, he decided; uncomfortable, but not crossing the line into real pain.

Keeping his voice calm and measured, he said, "Kneel on the bench at the foot of the bed and bend over onto it. Eyes down."

She went to the bed and obeyed, her pulse picking up a bit more. She was nervous now, unsure of what she'd gotten herself into, which was just fine as far as he was concerned. She looked very vulnerable, her ass in the air, her legs folded underneath her on the bench. He approached the side of the bed, next to her.

"Stretch your arms out in front of you. Don't make me tell you not to move them. Turn your head toward me." She did, careful to keep her eyes down.

He crouched down on the floor so he could meet her eyes. "Look at me," he said, and she lifted her gaze to him. "You've intentionally broken the rules, and that requires punishment. I will spank you five times. Do you have anything you wish to say?"

Her breathing was a little unsteady, and he smelled the spike in adrenaline and cortisol. Good; anticipating punishment was part of experiencing it. "I'm very sorry," she said. "It won't happen again."

"I'm glad to hear that," he said, his voice even. "And I accept your apology. Once your punishment is over, the matter will be closed." He moved his hand to her ass, and she flinched, but he did not move to spank her, not yet. He caressed her skin, bringing blood to the surface. "Keep your eyes open. Do you understand?"

"I understand," she said with a nod.

"Very well." He was not pleased that she had misbehaved, or that his plans for the evening had to give way to the necessity of addressing it. But he couldn't deny the arousal he felt from seeing her so exposed and vulnerable, awaiting punishment from him.

He moved out of her line of sight. He took a moment to focus, and cautious to exercise control over his strength, he delivered five sharp swats to her ass. She gasped her way through it, but she held herself mostly still, not trying to avoid his hand. He felt a warm rush of pleasure at her responsiveness, her trust in him. When he was through, he drew his hand across her bottom. It was warm, a pleasing shade of pink, but nothing more. It would fade within minutes.

He was about to move back to her side when the scents hit him. Dopamine. Endorphins. A rush of heat to her sex. He lifted an eyebrow. She was full of surprises, his Diana. He realized he had misread the situation; she hadn't been testing him, she'd deliberately sought punishment, or pain.

They would talk about this, but he needed to bring the punishment to a conclusion first. Matthew knelt beside her and lifted his hand to her hair, stroking it gently for a moment. "No need to stay on your knees." He helped to shift her onto her side, facing him. "Your punishment is over, and it's in the past now."

She nodded, her face a bit flushed.

"Is there anything you want to tell me, Diana? You may look at me," he added. He kept his hand lightly on her neck, maintaining a physical connection between them.

She met his eyes and took a breath before squeezing them shut. "I didn't know…" she started. "I liked it." She opened her eyes again, searching for any reproval in his, concerned about his reaction.

They needed to talk, to have an honest conversation, and he didn't want to attempt that in the midst of a scene, not if she was anxious or upset.

"Oxford," he said, and she looked at him in surprise.

~~~

Matthew dropped the duvet over her gently and handed her a glass of water, which she drank gratefully. He pulled off most of his clothes and crawled into bed beside her.

She shook her head. "I don't understand. Why…?"

"The first time we did this, I told you I would use your word if I felt it was necessary. It was necessary." He wrapped his arms around her. "Did you disobey hoping for some kind of physical punishment?"

She nodded, abashed. "Yes. I wanted to see what it felt like."

So she'd been seeking pain, then. Kissing her on the forehead, he asked, "That first night, I said pain could be its own kind of pleasure. Why did you hesitate to tell me?"

"I don't know," she said, not meeting his eyes. "I wasn't sure, and I didn't know how to say it."

He didn't want to make her feel worse, but it needed to be said. "You should have been honest with me, Diana," he said mildly. "No desire is wrong here, unless it harms someone. I didn't want to punish you, you know."

"Does that mean you don’t want to…"

He smirked at her playfully. "I didn't say I hated it, either."

She laughed, burrowing her head into his chest. "Talk to me," he said, laughing with her. "Tell me what you liked about it."

She drew a breath. "I liked kneeling on the bed, how vulnerable it felt. Waiting. The way your hand felt on my skin, before and after. It hurt, but in a good way. Not like being injured."

He'd been shy about pain with her from the beginning because of what she'd been through with Satu. But his clever Diana had worked out for herself that this was something she might want. He was more than a little aroused by the idea, but it was also up to him to help her explore it safely.

"That gives me a few ideas, certainly," he said. More than a few. Perhaps too many.

Diana propped herself up on an elbow to look at him. "Do you want to keep going? Now?"

"No, not tonight," he said, smiling at her enthusiasm. "Once someone uses their word, it's best to stop for a bit."

"Oh," she said, her face falling a bit.

"But that doesn't mean we need to live like monks, either," he said, reaching for her with a grin.

~~~~~

A few days later, an overnight package from a very expensive and discreet shop in St. James's arrived. It was perfect. He'd chosen a fairly heavy velvet flogger for the sensations Diana had described as appealing to her. For the more experienced, the wide, mid-length velvet tails might be insufficient for anything more than a warm up, but that was exactly what Matthew wanted.

Thinking about the mechanics helped him to avoid dwelling too much on how wielding the flogger would make him feel, about how she would look, what her scent would be like. Christ, what she did to him.

He showed her the flogger before they started. She was hesitant to pick it up, but he encouraged her to do so. "It's heavy," she said.

He nodded. "You said you didn't want too much sting, and the weight makes it more of a thud than a sting. But the velvet tails will keep it from being too painful. And so will I."

"I trust you," Diana said simply, her eyes meeting his.

Smiling at her, he said, "Restrained, or no?" He was letting her make most of the decisions, hoping it would reduce any anxiety she felt.

"Yes, please."

"Your word?" he asked.

She smiled at him a little indulgently. "Oxford, Professor Clairmont."

"All right, then." He kissed her on the forehead, inhaling her scent. He would never tire of it. "Are you ready?"

She looked up at him for a moment before dropping her eyes. "Yes."

Taking a step back, he said, "Then strip, and kneel." He watched her as she did, far less self-conscious then she had been just a few weeks ago. So lovely, watching the subtle changes that came over her as she placed herself in his hands. Anticipation and the first hints of arousal mixed with just a bit of uncertainty.

Diana's breathing was a bit faster than normal, her heart rate elevated. She was nervous, but her arousal had increased, too. As had his. Just the anticipation of what they were going to do was enough to make his cock hard. He tried to ignore it, to keep his attention focused on her.

Her hair was down, tumbled across her shoulders, which was what he usually wanted, but not tonight, not when he needed to see her back and shoulders. He went to her dressing table, finding and handing her an elastic band. "Put your hair up for me, above your neck." She reached up to quickly twist and secure her hair, and the mundanity of the act seemed to calm her a bit.

Crouching behind her, Matthew put his hands lightly on her shoulders. "Relax and breathe, Diana, nothing will happen that you don't want," he whispered into her ear. She nodded, and the tightness in her body seemed to ease a bit. He massaged her shoulders gently, urging the rest of the tension away. When her breathing had slowed, he kissed her shoulder softly before moving in front of her, stopping to pick up the long blue scarf he'd set down earlier. He took her hand and lifted her to her feet.

"Your hands in front, wrists together." Quickly, he bound her wrists to each other, secure but not too tight.

There was a tall, heavy chest against one wall, and he led her over to it. He secured the free end of the scarf through the pull of the false drawer at the top, leaving enough slack so she would be able to hold on to the chest or lean against it. It wasn't perfect, but it would do.

Once she was restrained, he stood behind her, sliding his arms around her, kissing her neck. "Relax and breathe," he repeated. She shuddered under his touch, but nodded, and her heard her draw a deep breath.

Stepping a few feet away from her, he picked up the flogger, feeling the weight of it in his hands, and the responsibility that went with it. She was so damned brave, exploring a desire entirely new to her. He couldn't fully set aside the fear worrying at the back of his mind, the fear that his desire to watch her respond might overwhelm his judgment, that he would be unable to keep her safe. He wished he could trust himself as much as she trusted him.

He drew centuries of practiced control around him like a cloak. "You're going to hear the flogger move a few times, Diana, but it won't touch you."

She nodded but flinched anyway as she heard the flogger swish through the air next to her. He tested the distance, moving until he was satisfied the tails would land where he wanted them to.

"I'm going to start slowly, Diana. After you feel it, I want you to give me a number from one to ten. One means you can barely feel it, ten means you're ready to use your word. Do you understand?"

She nodded again, leaning against the chest. The purity of her trust in him was almost unbearable; he still wasn't sure he deserved it. All he could do was make sure he didn't break it.

He directed the first swing toward her right thigh, intending it as a light brush against her skin, and he succeeded; she barely reacted to it at all. "One," she said.

The next had just a smidge more power behind it. "Two," she said. He continued, slowly, carefully, increasing the energy behind each swing. This part was comfortable for him, a problem with a solution dictated by math and physics. "Two. Three. Three," she called out.

He kept the intensity right there for a while, letting her grow accustomed to the feeling, warming her up. It was sensation, not really pain, and he could tell she enjoyed it; her voice was level, her body relaxed.

He began to slowly increase the intensity. "Three. Four," she said, flinching just a bit at the latter. Just a little more. The next swing produced a slight shudder and left a hint of pink behind on her skin. "Five," she said. Perfect.

"Good, Diana, no more numbers."

The flogger felt comfortably familiar in his hand now, the tails landing where he wanted them to go. He kept the intensity right there, moving from her thighs to her ass to her shoulders, avoiding her spine and anywhere else that might result in injury. He varied the timing of his swings, sometimes allowing her to anticipate the next, sometimes bringing the flogger down two or three times in quick succession. It was more than just sensation now, there was pain, too, visible in the tension in her body. She moved under the blows, leaning against the chest a bit more heavily, gasping a bit. Her heart rate increased, as did her endorphin level.

So did his arousal. She was so responsive, naturally graceful and without any artifice. After a few more swings, he set down the flogger and approached her, pressing his fully clothed body against her bare skin, sliding his arms around her waist. He ran his hands down her back and over her ass and thighs; both were pink and warm where the flogger had struck.

Unable to resist, he bent to kiss her neck, feeling the blood rush to the surface just under her skin. She shuddered in response, leaning back into his touch. "How are you, Diana? Tell me."

She looked over her shoulder toward him but kept her eyes down. "More, please," she said, before pausing for a long moment. "Harder."

Her words sent a sensation down his spine that went straight to his cock. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Please," she replied, her voice thick with need.

He forced himself away from her and picked up the flogger again, willing his blood to his brain instead of his cock. "Numbers, Diana." No matter what she asked for, no matter what either of them wanted, he would only step this up a bit further tonight.

He started where they'd left off, resulting in a "five" from her. Slowly, carefully, he ratcheted up the power behind his swing just a bit: "Six." Once more, and he'd increased the intensity as far as he would go for now: "Seven," she said, her voice a half-cry. He told her she could stop calling out numbers, and she nodded. She was shifting under her restraints, shuddering with each blow, every reaction lovely and perfect, and Christ, he could watch her like this until the sun burned out.

It took only a few more swings, a few more falls of the tails, and he could see and feel it as it happened, as she stopped accepting the pain and started embracing it, giving herself over to it and to him. Her body relaxed, a sound escaping her that was both a deep sigh and a low moan. Her breathing evened out even as her heart rate picked up, dopamine and endorphins flooding through her, heat rushing to her sex. An overwhelming sense of pleasure surged through him; he had wanted this for her, and he was deeply satisfied that she had found it.

Until that moment, he hadn't realized how much he'd missed this, missed wielding a lash against willing skin. He loved this, the ability to cause pain and pleasure, to elicit the reactions he wanted. And most of all, he loved her submission and the trust it demonstrated. Diana trusted him; he should have had more faith in that trust.

Her trust had led them here. Diana was flying now, and Matthew knew she'd slipped away to a place where the only thing that mattered was the next fall of the tails, the next rush of sensation, the heady mix of pain and pleasure. She looked unspeakably fucking beautiful, wanton, free; her head tipped back, a thin sheen of perspiration covering her flushed skin. Completely open and responsive to him, she gasped and cried out with each blow, but it wasn't distress; her voice was pitched low, rich with desire and need.

His trousers were uncomfortably tight; he wanted her desperately, but he didn't want to stop, not until she needed him to. It was beyond gratifying to watch her let go, to surrender to the pain and the pleasure. Her reactions washed over him -- how abandoned she looked, the sounds she made every time the tails fell, the intensity of her scent.

Matthew kept his own need in firm check, watching her responses carefully as he brought the flogger down against her flushed skin. His earlier worries seemed foolish now; he was here for her, and no amount of arousal or desire would allow him to see her hurt.

Finally, a hitch in her breath made him pause. He saw the beginning of a bruise on her thigh, and he decided she'd had enough. Matthew dropped the flogger and went to her, one hand holding her steady while the other released her wrists, whispering to her softly as he pulled the scarf off her hands. She slumped a bit, and he quickly pulled her back against him, the heat of her body and the scent of her need sending a fresh surge of desire through him.

Suppressing his own need had taken a toll, and Matthew suddenly couldn't wait, not another moment, not long enough to shed his clothes or to take her to the bed. He turned her in his arms and backed her against the wall, lifting her as she wrapped her legs around his hips. He cradled her heated ass in one hand while he freed himself from his trousers with the other. He was inside her in seconds, and she gasped with pleasure while he groaned with the sheer relief of it.

His mouth found hers, his tongue demanding and insistent, and the taste of her sent his need spiraling higher. Their desire for each other was urgent, almost desperate, and he thrust into her mindlessly, wanting this to last but knowing it wouldn't. She was still flying, her breath ragged and her endorphin level off the charts. He tugged her hair free, burying his nose in it, the rush of her scent stealing what little was left of his reason.

"Oh...please..." she managed, her voice low and raspy.

"Christ, yes, come," he said, amazed that she'd remembered to ask. She moaned, and he felt her start to clench around him, wrapping her legs more tightly around his hips. It was too much, and he kissed her roughly as he thrust into her once more, following her into climax with a gasp, spending himself inside her with a long shudder. She was breathless, her pulse pounding, and even his own sluggish heart felt like it was racing.

Her head dropped back against the wall, and he moved to support her, to prevent them both from falling into a heap on the floor. Pulling back from her gently, he lifted her into his arms and brought her to the bed, laying her down on her side. Matthew quickly pulled off his clothes and crawled in behind her, wrapping his arms around her. He softly nuzzled her neck and hair, inhaling deeply, surrounding himself with her scent yet again. "So beautiful, Diana," he whispered.

She sighed, and he simply held her, running his hands up and down her arms and shoulders, wanting her to come down from the endorphin high slowly. After her breathing started to slow, he shifted her gently onto her stomach, whispering to her softly. His protective instincts took over, and he carefully checked her wrists, her back, her thighs. Her skin was intoxicatingly warm to the touch and flushed pink, but other than the small bruise starting to bloom on her thigh, there were no marks that wouldn't fade in a day or two.

He kissed her shoulder tenderly and rose from the bed, returning with a bottle of light massage oil and a glass of water, which he left on the bedside table. He poured a bit of the oil into his hands and began to gently massage it into her heated skin.

She turned her head and smiled at him.

"How do you feel, _mon coeur_? Do you want some water?" he asked.

"Mmm," she sighed, her eyes dropping closed again. She wasn't ready to make any decisions yet, even trivial ones.

He smiled to himself and continued the massage, listening to her heartbeat, sensitive to any sudden changes in her scent. Finishing, he set the oil aside. "Diana," he said softly, brushing her hair back from her eyes. "Open your eyes, my darling."

She blinked her eyes open and smiled at him. "Easy now," he urged her up onto her elbow, and handed her the glass of water; she quickly drank most of it. Taking the glass and setting it aside, he asked her again how she was feeling.

Diana smiled. "A little sore, but in a good way. Happy."

Her pleasure swept over him like a warm breeze. Crawling back into the bed with her, he pulled the duvet over them both. "You may be sore tomorrow, too," he said, a bit ruefully. "Do you want an ice pack, or paracetamol?"

"No. I want to feel it tomorrow,” she said, shaking her head. “I want to think of you, of this."

Her words sent a rush of heat and renewed desire down his spine, but he knew she was exhausted, and he pushed it away. Matthew was reminded of the other kinds of marks he'd left on her from nearly the moment they'd met, when he'd first dropped his coat around her shoulders, that first kiss on her wrist. He'd marked her with his scent, warning his own kind that she was _his_. Back off, she's protected, and she's _mine_. Trespass at risk of mortal peril.

"You were so careful," she said, her eyes meeting his. "I knew I was safe. Thank you."

He kissed her softly, a sweet kiss filled with tender affection. "You don't have to thank me." Her words made him vaguely ashamed that he'd doubted his ability to keep her safe, doubted her trust in him. He promised himself he wouldn't give in to such doubts again.

"I've never felt anything like that before," she said. "Just sensation on sensation, like nothing else mattered. Like I was --"

"Flying," they said at the same time.

"That's how it's supposed to feel," he said, kissing her hand, unable to bring himself to stop touching her.

She looked at him, considering. "Have you ever been...on the other side?"

Matthew smiled at her. "I have. I suspect most dominants have, at some point."

"Was it long ago?" she asked.

Warm memories rushed over him. "Not so long. The last time was about thirty years ago." He would tell Diana about her if she wanted to know, but not in their bed, and not tonight. "That, perhaps, is a story for another time," he said, kissing the tip of her nose.

There was curiosity in her eyes, as there always was when his past came up, but she didn't press.

Reaching for him, she kissed him long and slow, exploring his mouth, running her hands over his body. This had become something of a ritual for them, a way for Diana to rebalance her energy, to set aside their roles and become equals once more. Matthew gladly ceded control of the kiss to her, reveling in the feel of her hands on him, in her taste and scent.

After, she rested her head on his chest, and he stroked her hair with one hand, the other wrapped around her. Matthew kissed her forehead as she dozed, drifting in and out of sleep. He had never felt as much gratitude for anything in his life as he did for her trust in him. He held it carefully in his heart, just as he held her body close in his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> I owe enormous thanks to minim_calibre, jacquez, and devo, my exceedingly diplomatic, kind, and talented beta readers. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
> 
> All feedback appreciated! Questions? Ask me (almost) anything.


End file.
